


Welcome to the Hellmouth

by Aintfraidanoghosts



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aintfraidanoghosts/pseuds/Aintfraidanoghosts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler was an ordinary university student, living an ordinary life.  She never expected to wake up one morning endowed with supernatural powers with the fate of the human race suddenly on her shoulders.  With the help of her Watcher and friends, though, that weight is infinitely more bearable.</p>
<p>"In every generation there is a chosen one.  She alone with stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness.  She is the slayer."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will feature characters of Doctor Who and a loose amalgamation of plots and concepts from both Buffy and Doctor Who. Its not going to strictly follow either canon, more like take inspiration from both. Hopefully it turns out well!

_She felt the power surging through her veins, the rough grip of the crossbow digging into her hands as she pressed the trigger and sent the slim piece of wood straight into the heart of her attacker…_

__

Gathering up her voluminous skirts, she ran, drawing the beasts away from the crowd as she ducked and dodged through the forest. They were so close she could practically feel their hot breath on her heels…

The lights flickered on the empty subway car as she blocked and struck the platinum-blonde creature, almost a person if his face hadn’t been horrible twisted and disfigured, like something out of a nightmare…

“In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the…beeepbeepbeepbeepbeep.”

Rose Tyler jerked awake, still a bit disoriented from sleep but glad that her alarm had pulled her out of such unsettling dreams. She turned to the offending device and rubbed one hand over her eyes, fumbling around with the other until she smacked at the snooze button, unexpectedly feeling the plastic crack under her hand as sparks peppered her skin.

She gaped at the remains of the clock, staring between her hand and the smoking, splintered plastic, suddenly wide awake despite her disturbed sleep of the night before. She'd had the clock for over a year, and her blind fumbling in the morning had never made even the slightest ding or dent.

"Bloody piece of garbage," she murmured, pulling the cord from the wall and taking the outlet plate with it. She stared disbelievingly at the little white piece of plastic for a moment before tossing the entire combination into the bin. Of course, the first day of her new term, everything she touched would break. Definitely not a good omen.

She made a mental note to go pick up a new alarm clock, something a bit higher quality that wouldn't break after only a year of university. She could use her discount at Henrik’s, she still had that for another few weeks and she was sure she had a discount card tucked away somewhere. Her classes were finished by four, she'd hop the metro into London and be back before dinner.

Satisfied with the plan, Rose got to her feet, stretched, and froze in the middle of reaching towards the ceiling. She felt...odd. Not sick. In fact, quite the opposite. She felt good. Limber. Strong. Ready to take on the world and then some. She wondered if the new vitamins her mum had given her were working better than she expected. 

Unfortunately, by the time she had finished her morning routine, she was starting to suspect that something was very, _very_ wrong. She'd nearly broken the shower handles off the wall, torn the sleeve clear off the tshirt she'd wanted to wear, and her shoelaces very nearly didn't survive the morning. She was moving with extreme care by the time she caught the bus to campus, and managed to get through her classes without any further incident. However, she felt an odd prickling at the back of her neck at seemingly random intervals throughout the day, almost an _awareness_ she'd never felt before _._ She had no idea what that was about, or who she was supposed to be aware _of,_ and was still puzzled even as she dashed into Henrik’s ten minutes before they closed. 

Rose zipped through the store to Housewares, arriving far more quickly than she expected. She picked up a high quality model and brought it to the check out counter where her friend, Shireen, was ringing up a few last-minute customers.

"Rose!" she greeted enthusiastically. "'S good to see you, luv! How's uni?"

"Um, okay, so far," Rose muttered, handing Shireen her employee ID card and her 25% off discount card. "Broke my alarm clock this morning though. Bloody cheap thing."

"Well this is good one," Shireen commented as they quickly finished the sale and she shut off the light on her register. "Now I have to go find Wilson to give him the lottery money. God, I hope he's not wandering around again, I have a date tonight."

"Why don't you let me do it?" Rose asked. "I've still got my keycard, and I'll just leave out of the basement door."

"Would you really? Oh, you're a life saver!" Shireen reached over the counter to hug her friend and handed over the plastic cash bag. "I just need to count my drawer and I can go! Thanks!"

"Yeah, have fun!" Rose waved before she turned and trotted along to the staircase. Tucking the small shopping bag away in her own messenger bag, she made her way down to the basement and. She moved quickly, not wanting to miss her bus. She knew she had a lot of reading to get through before her Tuesday-Thursday classes started the next day, and she didn't want to get back too late.

"Wilson!" she called through the cavernous basement. "Wilson, it's Rose! I've got the lottery money!"

She didn't get a response. Rose sighed and continued down the hall, calling out for the chief electrician as she moved. "Wilson, I've got to hurry! They're closing the shop and I've got to catch my bus!"

As she moved through the cool, dim space she felt that odd tingling, creeping feeling on the back of her neck once again. She was instantly on edge and started walking a little more slowly, keeping her eyes and ears open for anything out of the ordinary. She took her keys from her bag and slid them between her fingers as her self-defense instructor had advised and tried her best to stay alert.

She had turned back in the direction she came when she slammed into a solid form, yelping in surprise and her fists coming up reflexively in a defensive stance before she sighed and relaxed, Wilson standing in front of her with a smile. "Hey there, Miss Rose," he greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"Wilson!" Rose replied in relief, dropping her fists but still unable to shake the odd feeling. She held the plastic bag out to him and he took it with a smile. "I brought you the lottery money. Blimey, it's creepy down here. How can you stand it?"

"You get used to it," he replied, walking down the hall and into a storage room. Rose followed, eager to catch up with her friend and coworker. "How's uni?"

"Oh, you know," Rose replied, glancing around the room filled with plastic dummies and last seasons' styles as she heard Wilson tuck the cash into a drawer. "Little odd, but then it's just the first day. What are you up to?"

"Oh a lot over the past few days. I feel like a new man in fact."

She turned back to him and gasped, heart thundering in her chest as she backed instinctively against the wall. His face had completely changed in the few seconds she'd spent scanning the room, morphing into something horrific. His eyes had gone yellow, his forehead had shifted into ridges, and his teeth were now jagged. He grinned and began stalking her as two similar creatures began emerging from dark corners of the room.

"Well," he continued. "Maybe not a man. Did I mention how glad I am to see you, Rose?"

"Wilson, what the hell is going on?" she asked, willing her voice not to shake as the three other creatures gathered around him. "What's happened to you?"

"I've been reborn," he said, spreading his arms wide as if inviting Rose to behold his glory. It took an edge off the situation and Rose actually found herself fighting back a giggle. "I'm better, stronger, faster..."

Rose couldn't hold it back this time. She snorted, pressing her hand against her mouth to stifle the noise. The smile faded from Wilson's face and he looked irate. "Sorry," she said, still chuckling. "'S just...did I suddenly fall into an episode of _The Six Million Dollar Man_?"

"You realize we're going to kill you, girl," the creature to Wilson's right side said with a snarl. "And you're laughing at us?"

Rose couldn't help her reaction. She was scared, yes, but something about them was also ridiculous. Something deep inside of her was emerging. They had no idea who they were dealing with. Rose ducked out of her messenger bag and twirled it in her hand while casually replying, "Yeah, well...you're just _so overdramatic_! I mean, subtlety is the key and all that. ‘S like you‘re all…bad movie villains or something!" 

While she giggled some more, Wilson lunged forward, faster than she ever thought possible, but she ducked instinctively and moved with almost a second nature from that point on. She'd only taken one course of self-defense last term, but it was as if her movements were in perfect compliment to their attacks. She'd never thought she'd be able to take three assailants at once, but she ducked and jabbed and swung her bag like a weighted weapon as if this were all a perfectly-choreographed dance. And she felt as though she could dance all night.

So could they apparently.

Wilson eventually got her feet out from under her, Rose losing her bag crashing to the cement floor with a thud. She hissed, the pain not nearly as intense as she expected but still enough to knock the wind out of her briefly. That respite was all it took for him to be upon her, his horrific visage filling her vision in a split second.

"Looks like you were lucky for a while there, Rose," he said with a grin, bearing his disfigured teeth to her. "Too bad it's run out."

She screeched as he dove for her neck, turning her face away and squeezing her eyes shut. But as suddenly as he was upon her, he was gone with a hiss, the weight off her body as a hand grasped hers and pulled her to her feet. Warmth spread through her from the point of contact and some corner of her mind noted that a hand in hers had never felt better than when it was saving her life.

She turned and saw a man in a leather jacket gripping her firmly, crucifix held out towards the creatures who cowered back away from the object. He turned to Rose and fixed her in his intense blue gaze.

"Run!"

Rose didn't need to be told twice. She let the man tug her forward as they sprinted away from Wilson and his cronies, his grip on her hand strong and comforting. She knew it was a bit stupid, letting a complete stranger lead her through a dark basement, but something inside was screaming at her to trust him. Her instincts hadn't failed her in fighting against the creatures, so she wouldn't contradict them now.

She could hear the pounding footsteps as they chased her and the mysterious man, who led her into a service elevator, the door closing quickly as he aimed a slender silver cylinder at the "close" button, the tip lighting up bright blue and an odd humming filling the space.

"They'll be right behind us," he said in a deep, Northern burr. He turned to Rose, assessing her quickly. "Are you all right? You aren't hurt? Bitten?"

"Bitten?" Rose asked, blinking at the man. "No, not bitten. Or hurt. Hold on, shouldn't I be hurt?" She glanced down at herself, puzzled before looking back up at the man. "And who _are_ you?

"Dr. John Smith," he said simply, running his hands chastely over her face and arms, assessing her for injuries. It was very clinical, but Rose couldn't say she minded the contact.

"And what sort of doctor are you?" She took a moment to inspect him, the man who had saved her life. He was older than she was, with closely-shorn hair and a prominent nose with ears to match, but it worked on him. He was the sort of attractive that Rose would never have thought to look at twice before, but she now found that she had to force her gaze away from his face. Maybe it was the whole saving-her-life gratitude, but she was instantly drawn to him. She felt safe in his presence, the lingering panic and fear she'd felt before calming and now all she wanted was answers.

"Oh so now's the time for conversation?" he snarked. Rose had to bite her lip to hide her smile. "Doctor of Parapsychological and Metaphysical Studies. Now can I have a bit of hush?"

"What? Why?" she asked, confused as the elevator door opened. She turned her head and saw the three creatures stalking towards them.

Dr. Smith pressed something into her hand. Rose glanced down and saw it was a wooden stake, the kind someone would use to pitch a tent for camping except noticeably larger. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"You'll know," he said, tucking the silver cylinder into his pocket and pulling out the crucifix. He grasped onto her shoulders and locked their gazes. "Trust me, you know what to do."

Without warning, he spun her around, the surprised "What?" forming on her lips before he shoved her out of the elevator and towards the three.

"Trust your instincts," he called to her.

"My instincts are telling me that you're asking for a smack in the face!" Rose called back, ducking a swing from Wilson. She heard Dr. Smith chuckle, a deep, velvety noise that she would have appreciated had she not been fighting for her life.

He was right, much as she hated to admit it. She did know what to do with the stake. As soon as she had an opening, she plunged it into the heart of one of Wilson's cronies, who glared at her with shock before he disintegrated into dust before her. She did the same to the other, and was finally faced with the man she once called a friend.

"What have you done with Wilson?" she demanded as they circled one another.

"But I am Wilson!" he told her, his face morphing back into the one she knew so well. She'd seen him every day over the summer, and he'd always been willing to help her adjust. If someone had talked down to her because she was new or simply because she was working at a shop, Wilson was always ready with a pep talk and a few choice words for the other party. She lowered the stake and relaxed her defensive posture just a bit, still on edge but far too confused to think about fighting this person. "Rose, it's me, honestly!"

"Don't listen to him," Dr. Smith called from the elevator. She turned and felt her annoyance flare as he stood there, leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest and looking completely at ease. "He's a demon, nothing more. And mind your head."

"What?" Rose asked as she felt the impact at her middle. Wilson had tackled her to the ground, his horrible visage visible once more as he went straight for her jugular.

Rose felt the stake penetrate his chest cavity, silently thanking whatever God of physics was out there that Wilson didn't seem to think his attack through. He'd lowered himself onto her stake when her hands had come up in an instinctive defense against his attack. She saw the shock on his face right as he turned to dust above her.

Rose lay on the floor, panting, for several moments before she could finally speak. "Okay, you seem to know everything," she said, still staring up at the ceiling. "What the _hell_ just happened here?"

She turned to the elevator, ready to demand answers. Dr. John Smith, whoever he was, was gone. 


	2. Chapter 2

Rose shot up in her bed, breathing hard, images from her nightmare still assaulting her. The same awful creatures she'd fought were crawling through her dreams. Except this time, they weren't after her. Instead they had Martha, Mickey, and even Rose's mum, and no matter how hard Rose struggled, she couldn't get to them in time.

She'd left Henrik’s and gone straight home, her mind whirring the entire trip. She had forgotten all about dinner and homework and had gone straight to bed, falling asleep after what felt like hours of tossing and turning. Then all she'd seen were horrific images of the same creatures she'd faced that day torturing her family and friends.

Still, one of them in particular had stood out, and it in fact had been his face that had sent her into her waking panic. He'd been practically snow-pale, his eyes were red and demonic, and he radiated power. He'd been far more terrifying than anything she'd ever seen in her life, and yet, she couldn't ever remember coming across him before.

Rose sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face. Despite her disturbed, relatively short night, she felt rested enough to start her day. She still spent it in a constant state of alert, unable to shake the distracting feeling that she was being watched or even followed.

Even her best friends, Martha and Mickey, noticed that she wasn't entirely herself. They had all met for lunch, and Rose had a hard time following the conversation.

"And then I threw on your old tutu, Martha, remember that one? From when we were five? Sorry, I think I may have torn it. But then I danced through the quad without anything else on and kept singing 'I'm a pretty pretty princess.' The Dean wasn't too happy."

Rose glanced sidelong at Mickey. "Oh you think you're so funny. Sorry, I know, I'm in another universe right now."

"You worried about classes?" Martha asked, taking a bite of her salad. Studying medicine had made the young woman a health nut, and she often lectured Rose on her preference for chips.

"Not...really..." Rose hesitated, not entirely sure if it was a good idea to tell them what had happened the night before. Martha and Mickey had been friends since childhood. Rose had only met them when they'd been in the same orientation group their first term, but they had been inseparable ever since. She didn't know if brilliant Martha or sweet, goofy Mickey would have her sectioned if she told them the truth. "I just...didn't sleep well last night."

"Oh, me either," Martha replied. “Kept getting nightmares about being chased by a giant syllabus, yelling 'final exam is worth 75% of your grade!' I don’t need to be a psych major to know what _that’s_ all about.”

Mickey grinned and seemed about to respond when Rose’s mobile started ringing from her pocket. Confused, she retrieved it and noticed that the number was a university extension. She clicked the phone on and, still puzzled, brought it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Is this Rose Tyler?”

“Yes…?”

“Miss Tyler, my name is Donna Noble. Your bag is currently taking up a ridiculous amount of space in my office and it would be fan-bloody-tastic if you could come retrieve it before we all die of old age, ‘kay?”

Rose was taken aback but, at the same time, fighting the urge to smile at the sassy woman on the phone. “I’m sorry…how did you get my bag?”

“I don’t ask questions, sunshine, I just do as I’m told. Someone might need this chair, you know, the one your bag is keeping well-occupied.”

“Right, right,” Rose replied. “I’ll…come get it now I guess? Where are you?”

“Fifth floor College Hall. Parapsychology Department. Thanks, sweetheart.”

“No-” the phone went silent before Rose could even finish her response. She stared at it, confused, before mumbling, “-problem,” and sliding it back into her pocket. She shouldered the rucksack she’d been using in place of her usual messenger and turned to Martha and Mickey. “Looks like someone found my bag. I’m just…gonna go, I guess. I’ll see you later?”

The both offered casual good-byes and Rose headed in the direction of the building, not one she usually took classes in but still familiar on the small campus. She took the elevator to the fifth floor, which opened up immediately to a set of blue double doors labeled “Department of Parapsychology and Metaphysical Studies. Chair, Dr. John Smith.”

Rose sighed. Of course, with the way the past few days had gone, this was where she would find Dr. Smith again.

She pushed open the door and gasped, the room looking disproportionately larger on the inside. It took up two floors and was filled to the brim with bookshelves, tables, storage cabinets, and both comfortable and not-so-comfortable looking chairs. A standard-issue university desk sat tucked to one side of the door, where a red-headed woman was typing briskly at a state-of-the-art computer system.

A separate door sat back a bit from the desk and, as Rose’s eyes drifted towards it, she smirked. Dr. Smith was lounging in the doorway, arms crossed, dressed almost exactly the same as he’d been the night before except he was wearing a navy jumper instead of dark hunter green. He smirked right back at her and Rose suddenly had to fight back the urge to wipe the cocky expression off his face by any means necessary.

“You know, you didn’t have to resort to stealing,” she told him teasingly, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you wanted to get me into your office, all you had to do was ask.”

“Oh, I like her,” the woman who was presumably Donna Noble said without looking up from her task.

Dr. Smith shot her a look before turning back to Rose. “Well, Rose Tyler, fact is I still had your bag.” He picked up Rose’s messenger from a nearby chair and held it out towards her. “Would be rude of me to keep it from you. You might miss your copy of _Twilight_ after all.”

“Oi!” Donna interjected. “Don’t knock it. Taylor Lautner makes a damn fine werewolf.”

Dr. Smith rolled his eyes. “Donna, I say this with all due respect, but could you please _shut it?_ Just for a moment?”

Donna rolled her eyes right back but remained silent. Rose stifled her grin before once more addressing Dr. Smith. “As if I would read _Twlight_ anyway. I’m a Harry Potter girl all the way.”

“Good,” he smiled at her. “Horribly inaccurate anyway, those books. As if vampires _sparkle._ Complete bollocks.”

“And how would you know what a vampire looks like?”

“You do,” he retorted, regarding her seriously. “You saw three of them last night.”

“Right,” Rose snorted. “They were vampires. And I’m the bloody queen. Nice to meet you.”

Dr. Smith regarded her seriously, but didn’t respond.

“Oh, come off it!” Rose laughed. “Seriously? Vampires? Have you been down at pub? ‘S barely noon, mate.”

“Donna, could you hold my calls?”

“Hold your own bloody calls, Doctor, I’m going to lunch,” Donna sassed back, pushing a button on the phone and shutting down her desktop.

Dr. Smith once again rolled his eyes. Rose had a feeling that this was a regular occurrence between the odd pair.

“You better watch out or your face will get stuck that way,” Rose offered.

“Fantastic. Now I’ve got two women ganging up on me.”

“And you need it,” Donna told him as she breezed out the blue doors. Rose heard the click of the lock before she turned back to the man in front of her.

“Dr. Smith-” she began.

“Doctor.”

“What?”

“Just ‘the Doctor’. Or ‘Doctor’ if you prefer.”

Rose shook her head. “That’s not even a proper name. I can’t call you ‘Doctor.’”

“Sure you can. Everyone does.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a rebel.”

“Fine,” Dr. Smith huffed before stepping to the side and gesturing gallantly at his office. “Miss Tyler, if you would follow me into my office, I’d be happy to explain everything.”

“Please,” she replied, trying hard to reign in her sarcasm as she plucked her bag from his hand and entered the small room. It was dim, with hazy daylight filtering in through the closed blinds, and crowded. The walls were lined with shelves and broadcasted various framed certificates and diplomas, though they were uneven and looked in need of a good dusting.

As she surveyed the room, she realized there wasn’t a single bare surface. Everywhere Rose looked, there were oddly-shaped bottles filled with mysterious liquid and labeled with odd, concentric circles that she supposed made sense to Dr. Smith, random bric-a-brac, and several objects that she couldn't even begin to identify except for the small, snowy stuffed owl tucked up on one of the shelves. Even his desk was cluttered with books, scrolls, cogs, bits of wire and what seemed to be an assortment of tools she could never even hope to recognize. 

Dr. Smith grabbed the pile of papers off one of the chairs and gestured quickly for her to sit down. He began rooting around in his desk drawers, pulling out a heavy volume before coming back to her and plopping it down on one of the only clear areas of the desk. It was huge and practically ancient, with the word “VAMPYR” brandished across the cover.

Rose could practically feel the blood draining from her face. This couldn’t be real. None of this could _possibly_ be real. She felt her jaw drop and she turned to stare at Dr. Smith, who was perched on the edge of his desk and regarding her seriously.

“Little humans,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Always last to believe what is right in front of you. You fought them, you watched them turn to dust. You woke up yesterday inexplicably stronger, faster. And yet you still try to find the most rational explanation.”

“What do you mean, ‘humans’?” Rose blurted out, startled at the fact that she was choosing to focus on _that_ detail. “Are you saying…you’re _not_?”

“Not entirely,” he told her. “That all right?”

“Yeah…” Rose replied, surprised at how easily the response came. 

She watched as something like relief spread across his face. He pushed back off the desk and leaned against one of his shelves. “I’m a Watcher, descendent from an ancient race of beings that have been helping protect humanity for eons. I was placed here because of you. To train you, to teach you.”

“Why me?” Rose asked, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.

“ _In every generation there is a chosen one-”_

Rose gasped, recognizing the words from her dreams.

“ _She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer.”_


	3. chapter 3

Rose stood far too quickly, her chair clattering to the floor. “I-I have to go,” she managed to stammer out. “I can’t…”

“Rose,” Dr. Smith implored, gripping her shoulders gently. “You need to calm down and listen to me. You are the Slayer.”

“You’re mad,” she replied, shrugging out from under his hands and starting to the door. “I don’t know who you think you are or how you found me, but I’m _not_ this Slayer you’re talking about. I’m just…a shop girl, a uni student from the Estate. I don’t know anything about these…vampires and demons and forces of darkness.”

“You don’t now, but that’s why I’m here,” Dr. Smith replied, following her out of the office. “You can’t just turn your back on your calling. The entire fate of the human race lies in your hands…”

“But no pressure, right?” Rose knew her voice was bordering on hysterical now.

“Absolutely not,” he replied. “Should rephrase that anyway. The entire fate of the human race lies in _our_ hands. It’s up to me to get you ready, to train you. And it’s in everyone’s best interest to do it properly, don’t you think?”

“You’re mad,” she repeated. They’d exited the building at this point, and the picturesque campus awash in the afternoon sunlight was suddenly incredibly offensive. She spun on her heel and headed towards one of the dining halls. Dr. Smith followed her, and she turned around to face him without breaking her stride. “You are completely, utterly mad and you _really_ should stop following me!”

“You know I’m right,” he told her, arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve been having the dreams, haven’t you? Slightly prophetic, slightly empathic…dreams of past Slayers and what’s to come…”

Rose suddenly halted in her tracks. “You mean…those things…”

Dr. Smith studied her intently. “Do you believe me now?”

“No,” Rose stated insolently.

“But you’re still listening.”

“Doesn’t mean I believe you.”

He considered her for a moment before glancing around. They were on a small, grassy area where students generally congregated between classes. However, today, it was practically deserted, and he grinned manically before winding back and throwing a punch in her direction.

Rose barely had time to ask what he was doing before she instinctively blocked his arm, knocking it out of the way with ease. He came back around, moving far more quickly than Rose knew was possible, but somehow, she was faster. The move of his muscles, the disturbance in the air around her, everything somehow told her the exact move he was going to make, and, in a split-second, she had her counter move planned. He had his arms wrapped around her shoulders and, grasping onto them for leverage, she hurled him over her shoulder and flat on his back in the grass.

He let out a grunt as he hit the ground, but still managed to smile up at Rose as she gaped, open mouthed, finally registering that she had managed to take down a man nearly eight inches taller and outweighing her by about three or four stones. She hadn’t even _thought_ about it, had just seen his fist coming and reacted instantaneously. 

And for _that_ matter…

“You tried to hit me!”

“Oh, come on!” he groaned, propping himself up on his elbows. “I wouldn’t have hurt you. I probably couldn’t, even if I tried. I was trying to prove a point.”

“Well point bloody taken,” she sassed, offering a hand to help him up. 

He seemed to have other plans. Instead of pulling himself up, he tugged at her hand and, caught off guard, Rose squeaked and tumbled down on top of him. In an instant, he had her on her back, his hands holding each wrist as she struggled to free herself. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but oddly enough she wasn’t afraid.

In that moment, she realized, despite the fact that she’d run from him when he’d called her the Slayer, something inside of Rose was screaming at her to trust him. It was instinctive, a knee-jerk reaction, just like defending herself had been. Just like she had fought the vampires from the night before. Despite the fact that she barely knew him, in that moment, she _did_ , and she knew he would never harm her. That he had her best interests at heart. Despite being held down and immobilized by a strong, solid man…she’d never felt safer or more protected than she did in that moment.

“Lesson number one,” he told her, his blue eyes staring intently into hers. “Never let your guard down. Not until they’re dust. This is vitally important, Rose.”

She swallowed and tried to calm the panicked rhythm of her heart. “Got it. You gonna let me up now?”

He looked surprised for a moment before glancing around. He must have forgotten that he had her pinned to the ground, and a small crowd had gathered, whispering and looking confused.

“Right!” he exclaimed, finally letting go of Rose’s wrists and helping her into a standing position. “So, you executed that move perfectly…we’ll pick this up again tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she replied absently. "Tomorrow works..."

"Come on," he said, squeezing her hand. "I'll buy you lunch?"

"Yeah," Rose repeated, letting him lead her through the small crowd and towards one of the few parking structures on campus. "And there better be chips involved or we are _definitely_ through here!"

******

Dr. Smith drove them to a nearby chippy in his old Volkswagen Beetle, picking up a couple of orders to go before driving them back to a small, one-story house just off campus. Rose glanced over at him in the driver's seat, her eyebrow raised. 

"You know, this is how all the horror stories start...luring the young girl to the house with delicious bits of fried food and then she's never heard from again."

"Please," he scoffed. "Like I could even get near you without your express permission. Did you forget that you took me down in 2.3 seconds flat?"

"Did _you_ forget you had me on my back just after?" Rose replied. "Don't let word get around. A girl could get a reputation."

He chuckled. "Come on. We have a lot to discuss." 

Rose nodded and leaned over to unbuckle her seat belt. She was surprised when she turned back to see her door already opened, Dr. Smith standing behind it and offering a hand to help her out.

"You waiting for a written invitation?" he asked, sounding slightly irritated when she made no immediate motion to leave the vehicle.

"What? No," she replied, taking the hand he offered almost unconsciously and letting him guide her out of the tiny car. "'S just...surprising. Never really had someone opening doors for me and whatnot."

"Really?" he asked, looking thoughtful. "Clearly your taste in men is questionable. Come on, we have a lot to get through." He grabbed the food out of the backseat and led her to the house. It was quaint and uniform, the same dark stone facade and brown shutters as the rest of the neighborhood. The front yard was immaculate and most likely maintained by the university, with a few bushes and flowering plants placed by the door and beneath the front windows. Rose's nose wrinkled at the exterior. It wasn't unattractive, but it was most definitely impersonal and did not feel like Dr. Smith at all.

She shook her head as he unlocked the door and reminded herself she had just met him. She really had no idea whether a house should "feel" like him or not. Then she glanced down at their still-joined hands and wondered where they got off feeling so lovely pressed together. She knew she was being petulant, but everything was still a bit surreal, and this irrational attraction she had for a man probably twice her age, a man who she'd just met and had turned her world completely on its side was _really_ getting on her last nerve.

When he tugged her into the house, she immediately felt more at ease. It strongly resembled the cluttered, manic disarray of his office, except spread out into the larger space. Shelves upon shelves lined the walls, stuffed full with books with some even piled precariously on top and on the edges. Various bits and bobs covered every surface, and yet while it was cluttered, it was oddly _clean_. The sitting area was particularly inviting, with a plush-looking sofa and arm chair opposite a gorgeous, ornate fireplace. She was suddenly struck with a vivid image of curling up with a steaming cup of tea while Dr. Smith read to her from one of the many ancient tomes that dotted the small room. She could practically feel the deep, velvety warmth of his voice washing over her, and the mental image was so shockingly clear that she dropped his hand in surprise and the thought immediately ceased.

He gave her an odd look before slipping out of his leather jacket and hanging it on the coat rack just inside the door. "Make yourself at home," he said, taking the bag into the kitchen and placing it on the small center island. Rose followed him into the space, took the stool directly in front of the bag, and began rummaging through it, emptying out the paper-wrapped containers and plastic utensils. Dr. Smith was digging in the refrigerator, before bringing out two bottles of lager and a hunk of odd looking cheese, looking sheepish.

Rose grinned at him, her tongue tucked teasingly between her teeth. "Entertain much?" 

He gave her a small smile before handing her one of the bottles. "Give a man a break. Being a Watcher and chair of a department doesn't leave much time for the shopping."

"Obviously," she replied. "Do you at least have some vinegar in those bare, bachelor cabinets?"

"What sort of Englishman do you take me for?" he scoffed, producing said condiment and sliding it across the island, along with a shaker of salt. "And you just... _assume..."_

"What?"

"You just _assume_ I'm a bachelor," he replied. 

"What, are you saying you _aren't_?" Rose teased before her eyes widened in realization. "Wait...are you and Donna...?"

Dr. Smith practically spit out the sip of lager he'd just taken. "No, no, no, and absolutely not," he choked out. "Now that's an image I didn't need. Thank you very much, Miss Tyler."

Rose grinned and dug into her lunch as Dr. Smith took the seat catty corner to her. "No, I saved her from a giant arachnoid demon. Really wasn't pretty, we had to drown all of her spawn so they didn't devour all of humanity. Drained the Themes."

Rose nearly choked on the bite of fish she'd just taken. "That was _you?_ Blimey, I should have known." She shook her head. "Every conversation we've ever had just seems to go mental."

"It's about to get worse," he said, reaching out and covering her hand with his. "Now...where to start..."

"The beginning always works for me."

"We'd be here for hours."

"Well, all my classes are done for the day," Rose replied, threading her fingers through his. She heard him breathe in sharply through his nose, and she couldn't blame him. How the action had come to bring her such a sense of comfort and calm after barely knowing this man was insanity, but the fact of the matter was that the contact was _nice_. She enjoyed holding his hand, and from the was his grip was sure and tight around hers, she imagined he felt the same way. "I'm not going anywhere. So talk."

"All right," he murmured. "Well...you are the Slayer."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I was there for that bit. Moving on...?"

He chuckled. "Well...the Slayer is a young woman, endowed with strength and skill to protect humanity from...well...demons, vampires, the forces of darkness, et cetera."

"But why _me?_ I'm just..."

"You're not _just_ anything," he told her vehemently. "You were born a potential Slayer. You have always had this innate ability within you. It wasn't until you were called that the full scope of your powers were activated. That's why I was sent here. We have some precognitive abilities, my people, and when the previous slayer died...well, you were called."

"So it's just me? No other Slayers tucked away in the world?"

"Just you," he replied sadly. "You, me, and a bloody annoying Watcher's Council in London that professes to be in charge."

"Huh," Rose remarked, sitting back on her chair and rubbing her free hand over her face. "Funny, never really understood the whole 'weight of the world' thing until now."

Dr. Smith chuckled once again. "Felt that way myself for the last few centuries."

"Centuries?" Rose raised an eyebrow. "You look good for it."

"Nine hundred years and I think I've learned a bit about moisturizing."

"Is it odd that I'm not even surprised anymore? So what are you, if you're not human?"

He sighed. "Now _that's_ s long story. The short version...my people are from a planet called Gallifrey. It was destroyed...oh, thousands of years ago, linear-time. They came to Earth and found the race of man under siege by aliens and alien-hybrids, the colloquial terms has come to be 'demons.' It's actually a word descended from our language, but the meaning has completely shifted since humans would rather explain things away with a great Creator than with science."

"Short version is getting pretty damn long, Dr. Smith," Rose muttered under her breath.

He frowned at her. "Just the Doctor, really. Dr. Smith is just what I use for university purposes. Also, I thought you wanted details?"

"Fine," Rose huffed. "Continue."

"Think I will, thanks. Anyway, so my ancestors brought with them a great deal of technology, advanced knowledge, and whatnot. We were exalted as Gods, but really, we just were further ahead than humans. We did a little bit of tinkering, using compatible DNA from various creatures and infusing it into chosen female warriors from the tribe. We thought the experiment had failed, because only one of the young women showed the desired results, but then when she was killed in battle, another of the women began showing the signs. The tests had included some of our own DNA and as a precognitive and telepathic species, all of the women were now connecting. One of them dying trigged the brain to release a hormone that activated the genetics. As the women bred and had children of their own, their daughters would become a potential warrior and so forth and so on and thus, the Slayer line was born. You are descended from these women, as are hundreds upon hundreds of others. It just so happened that you were next in line."

Rose glanced down at her rapidly-cooling food, trying to process the wealth of information that had just been poured into her head. "And your people became the Watchers?"

"Give the girl a medal," he snarked. "We're incredibly long-lived. I'm one of the younger Watchers, if you can believe it. Our leader, Rassilon, has been there since the beginning. Doesn't look a day over fifty-five in human years either."

"I should have you sectioned," Rose said. "This all sounds so...out a mad sci-fi novel. This sort of thing just doesn't happen in real life. Not to me."

"I'm sorry, I'll just go and alter your genetic make-up while I turn you into an ordinary girl once again. You can get back to your telly and your beans on toast and just forget this conversation ever happened. Or, you can accept that this is who you are and we can start your training."

"What do you mean, training? I've got classes. And friends. And a mother who expects daily phone calls. What am I supposed to tell them? 'Oh, sorry, can't hang tonight, I've got a date with my nine hundred year old trainer learning how to kill things. Better than the gym! Maybe on the weekend?'"

"I should bloody well hope not! The Slayer must operate in absolute secrecy. Anyone you are close to instantly becomes a target, a means of getting to you. It's dangerous."

"So what am I supposed to do? Cut off all ties? Stop talking to my friends and family because some stupid aliens thousands of years ago decided to play God? Do I even get a choice in the matter?" Rose was becoming slightly hysterical. 

Dr. Smith looked stunned. "I never thought of it like that. Of course you have a choice, you always have a choice. I can't _force_ you to do anything. But...think about the horror that could reign without you defending humanity. You've seen vampires, what they're capable of. And they're only the tip of the iceberg. Vampires, demons, werewolves...and they're all drawn here, to Merryvale, this lovely, picturesque village that happens to sit on _La Boca del Infierno."_

"The _what?_ "

"The Hellmouth. Rather, _a_ hellmouth. There are a few more, scattered throughout the Earth. One in California, one in Cleveland, one here, one in Australia..."

Rose pressed her palms to her brow, trying to ward off the headache she could feel building. It was too much, this man waltzing in and turning her entire universe topsy-turvy. She had just wanted to have a quiet semester, maybe take some general education courses and finally decide on a track for her studies. She wanted to see her friends and live in her flat and call her mum and maybe meet a nice bloke. She didn't want to spend her nights slaying vampires and demons and her days training with things like...self-defense and medieval weaponry and whatever the hell else Dr. Smith had in store for her.

Then she thought of those horrible creatures she'd faced the night before. She thought of them going after Martha or Mickey or her mother and shuddered. Was she really the only one who could put up any sort of fight? Was it really just her and Dr. Smith against the universe?

"Rose?" he prompted gently when she didn't reply.

"I'm sorry," she answered, pushing away her now-tepid lunch and gathering up her bags. "I just...can't do this right now. I need to think."

"Right," he replied, sagging a bit and standing with her. "Do you want me to take you home?"

"No," Rose told him, making her way to the door without even bothering to see if he was following her. "I'll walk. I need the air."

"You know where to find me," his voice wafted through the doorway, the last thing she heard before slamming the heavy wood shut behind her, shifting her bags, and heading back towards the university.

******

Rose's walk did little to clear her head, nor did a conversation with her mother or even dinner with Martha and Mickey. It wasn't until she woke up the next morning, breathing hard after the nightmarish visions of her friends, family, and even Dr. Smith being chained, tortured, killed, or worse by the frighteningly pale, demonic visage that had plagued her dreams only a few nights before. Chest heaving, desperately sending out text messages to everyone she loved in what she hoped was a casual manner. Everyone responded quickly, asking what he plans were for the day, but she didn't reply. She knew what she had to do, and she had no idea how to even begin to explain it.

She rushed through her morning routine, skipping breakfast in favor of catching Dr. Smith as quickly as possible. She didn't have his mobile number, she didn't even know if he owned one, but as it was early on a Saturday morning she figured she could take a chance at his little house. It was only a couple of miles from campus and she rapped on the door barely fifteen minutes after she'd left her flat. 

When no one answered, Rose sagged and contemplated waiting around outside of the department when she heard some movement from the other side of the door. Dr. Smith came into view not a moment later, dressing gown open over his bare torso and flannel pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. Rose had to swallow back her gasp but didn't do as well to contain her blush at the expanse of skin on display.

"Rose?" he yawned as he scratched through his closely-shorn hair. "Are you all right? What happened?"

She managed to tear her gaze away from his lean, yet surprisingly well-defined form and met his clear blue gaze. She squared her shoulders and took in a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm ready, Dr. Smith," she told him, her stomach fluttering at the warm, genuine smile that spread across his face at her words. "Let's do this."


	4. Chapter 4

"We need to set down ground rules," Rose muttered, pushing past Dr. Smith and into the house.

"Good morning, Rose, won't you please come in?" he grumbled, tying the belt of his dressing gown. Rose tried to dampen down the flash of disappointment at his actions. "Shall I put the kettle on?"

"Please," Rose replied, grinning when he rolled his eyes and, grumbling, headed into the kitchen. "Rule number one, any snacks and caffeine are on the council."

"There's an envelope for receipts in the desk," he called as he puttered about.

Rose hung her jacket on the antique looking rack by the door and joined the man called her Watcher in his kitchen. She plopped down on a stool and watched him fill an old-fashioned copper kettle before setting it on the stove. "Fantastic. Number two," she began. "Barring any Slayer-related emergencies, I have at least one night off per week."

He turned to glare at her. "We'll discuss it. Is there anything else?"

"Oh, yeah," Rose smiled sweetly at him. "Rule number three, my mother is off limits. She is to have no part of this, understood?"

"Fine by me," he grumbled. "I don't to families. Too domestic."

"Glad we agree. Number four...any of this training interferes with my classes, I'm out. I need to get a job someday since I'm guessing sacred birthrights don't pay the bills?"

Dr. Smith scoffed. "Quick on the uptake, you are. And don't worry, your studies are essential. If our training proves to be too much, we'll take a step back and reevaluate. You happen to be in special circumstances. Generally, Slayers are assigned a Watcher very young and are trained their entire lives. University, families, friends...they generally aren't an issue. But with the Slayer line growing, it's proven impossible lately. We only knew who you were just before you were called, someone reading the timeline saw you."

"So we're both playing this by ear?"

She noticed him smile as he measured out tea leaves into a kettle. "Learning as we go. Anything else?"

"Oh, loads...number five..."

"Blimey..."

Rose tried to hide her grin before turning serious once again. "Number five...I don't kill innocents. No collateral damage, no 'for the greater good' nonsense. If I'm supposed to be protecting people, that's what I'm gonnado."

He turned to her, his expression grave. "Rose, I'm going to be honest with you..."

"Good! Because that was next...always be honest. No matter how bad, how dire, you will not keep things from me. I'm not a wilting flower, I can handle it. Now...go on. With the being honest..."

He sighed. "There is always going to be innocents hurt, killed...'collateral damage,' as you put it. I don't want you feeling responsible. Someone gets hurt...it's not your fault. Understood?"

Rose glanced down at her hands, feeling suddenly very melancholy and unsure of her choice. She knew it would be complicated, things would get sticky and hairy and all those good adjectives, but knowing that people could die despite all her efforts...

A hand suddenly covered hers and she looked up, meeting the clear, blue eyes of the man who, in forty eight hours, had turned her world completely on its side. "In an ideal world, no one would die or be harmed. There would be no evil and everyone would skip through meadows, holding hands and singing jaunty tunes. This is _not_ an ideal world. You are protecting others, keeping them from harm, harm that is _not_ your fault. All right?"

"All right," Rose murmured, lacing her fingers through his and squeezing his hand in gratitude. He smiled, corners of his mouth turning up into that bright grin that seemed to transform his face. He looked young, free, and happy, and Rose couldn't stop her own smile from spreading across her face in return.

He was close, so close she could see the flecks of light reflected in his eyes. She had acknowledged the fact that he was attractive, his chiseled features always holding an intensity she'd never experienced before in a member of the opposite sex. His touch, so new, held a familiarity that should have shocked her, but she was so comfortable so quickly that it was almost too easy to lean into the hand that had just cupped her cheek, to shut her eyes and imagine that he was coming in close, that there really was cool breath against her lips...

A shrill whistle from the kettle caused her to jump, her eyes opening just in time to see Dr. Smith turning back towards the stove and busying himself with the tea. She told herself she was only imagining the tense set of his shoulders beneath the navy fabric and gave herself a mental shake. It was completely inconvenient for her to have a crush, especially on a man who looked at least twice her age and actually had several centuries on her. Who wasn't even a man, in fact.

She sighed as he placed the kettle, cream and sugar containers, and a mug on the island. "I know it's a lot to take in," he told her gently. "I'm going to clean up. Have some tea, think about things, and we can start your training."

"Right now?" she asked. "As in today? What if I had plans?"

"Do you?"

"Well, no, but that's _so_ not the point."

Dr. Smith smirked before turning back to his pantry and gathering an armful of rectangular boxes. "Part one of your training is basic. Take care of yourself. That means three meals, two snacks, regular cardiovascular and strength training, frequent check-ups..."

"But when will I have time to do silly things like breathe and blink?"

He smirked once again and placed the boxes in front of her. "There. Cereal. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day." He turned away and gathered a bowl, spoon, and milk carton before placing them on the island as well. "Help yourself. There's bananas by the stove as well."

Rose stared at the selection before her; Wheetabix, Corn Flakes, Raisin Bran, and, oddly enough, Lucky Charms. Her eyes slid over to the carton of milk and then to the full fruit bowl on the counter, the large bunch of bananas hanging on a hooked contraption nearby. She glanced at the rumpled man before her with her eyebrow raised.

"What?" he grumbled. "Bananas are good!"

"This wasn't here yesterday," she told him. "Did you...go shopping?"

He huffed, turning away so she couldn't see is face. "Well...figured you for the noble type. And if you're going to be around more I can't bloody well feed you moldy cheese and tea forever, can I? Eat, I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Rose grinned, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach as she helped herself to the cereal smorgasbord in front of her.

******

True to his word, fifteen minutes later, Dr. Smith returned to his little kitchen, smelling better than any man had any right to, and dressed in what Rose determined was a little-changing outfit of black jeans, black boots, and a deep purple jumper that happened to look amazing on him. She had cleaned up from her breakfast and was just washing out her dishes when he breezed into the room.

"Good, you've finished," he told her, grabbing her hand just as she placed her spoon in the drying rack. "First thing we have to do is a physical. I'll need to draw some blood, check your nutrient levels, make sure I don't need to mix up any daily supplements for you to take."

"You can do that? Are you even a real doctor?"

""Course I am," he replied as he led her to the cellar. "Nine hundred years I spent waiting for you, you think I just sat around, twiddling my thumbs?"

"Well I don't know!" Rose protested. She was shocked to see what seemed to be an at-home physician's office, tiled and clean, complete with an examination table, several cabinets, and a desk with three separate computer monitors tucked into a corner. "I've barely been the Slayer for three days; I don't know what you Watchers get up to in your free time. For all I know it could be booze and strippers day and night."

Dr. Smith grumbled something barely audible in return, something along the lines of, "Wouldn't put it past 'em," before guiding her onto the vinyl-padded table. He sat down on a stool close by and began busying himself with the contents of a small, wheeled cart.

"You'll need to take off your sweatshirt. I need access to your right antecubital," he informed her, turning on a lamp and holding both of his hands underneath it. The light illuminated them a bright blue for a few seconds before shutting itself off.

"Sorry?" Rose asked, shaking her head. "And what's that light?"

"Sonic sterilizer. Sort of an autoclave machine but safe for any surface, including skin. I have a more portable version as well, comes in handy when you're fighting with pointy objections. And your right antecubital. Your inner arm, I'll need some blood samples."

"Oh, right," she said, unzipping her hoodie and sliding it off her shoulders. She watched his eyes harden briefly as he took in the still-fading bruises on her skin. "'S all right, they're healing fast. They don't even hurt."

"Slayer ability," he said. "Faster healing, heightened immune system. All a result of my brilliant ancestors' genetic tinkering. Arm please."

Rose offered her arm. Dr. Smith grasped it gently, tugging the silver tube device from his pocket and shining it over Rose's skin. A warm tingle spread from the point of contact and he turned away quickly to busy himself with the small supply cart. Quickly and painlessly, he extracted a vial of blood and affixed a small neon yellow plaster to the tiny wound that was already nearly imperceptible. He scooted the wheeled chair over to the bank of computer monitors. Rose watched critically as he tipped the vial into a tiny cube and began typing furiously at a keyboard.

"Is there anything that little tube can't do?"

"Can't seem to get it to work on wood," he murmured. "We're running a few basic scans now." He studied the monitors critically as they lit up with a barrage of interlocking circles that must have made some kind of sense to him. "Iron levels look good, CBC count is normal, cholesterol levels are within a healthy range, you're not pregnant..."

Rose startled a bit. "Excuse me?"

"And no artificial hormones in your system. Best give you a birth control shot while I have you."

Rose was almost too shocked to speak. "I'm sorry...you're gonna _what?_ "

He turned away from the monitors and glanced at her. "Would you prefer an implant?"

"No, I don't want anything!" she sputtered. "Isn't this a little inappropriate?"

"Standard procedure," he replied. "Or would you rather the Council dictate your personal life? Forbid you from contact with the opposite sex? Believe me, they've tried it before and it never works out well."

"This sounds an awful lot like they're trying to dictate my personal life!" Rose exclaimed, her anger rising. "They have no right to insist on anything to do with my body! I don't even have a boyfriend, but even if I did, whether or not we want to use birth control is our decision, not yours and your stupid bloody Council!"

His eyes softened and she felt some of her ire at him dissipate. He cared, she knew he did, she could tell in the way he spoke to her, as if they were equals and _not_ a professor and a student, or even a Watcher and a Slayer. Not that she really knew how the latter spoke to one another, but she could absolutely feel his contempt towards the Council and he gave the impression that he only begrudgingly followed their rules. "I know, Rose. Believe me, I know. I agree, you should have some level of autonomy over your own body. I can't force you to do anything. But you've barely experienced this life. And already you know how dangerous it is. I don't want to stop you from living, and it's your business whether you want to bring home some pretty boy for a one night stand. But the result of that could bring more danger to your life than a normal girl. Would you bring a child into the world you inhabit? Put them at risk like that?"

Rose glanced down at her hands. He was right, she knew it on some level. She had made a choice the night before, the choice to live this life and protect people, and she would have to deal with everything that came along with it. Even if she didn't like it. She sighed and met his gaze. "You're bloody irritating, I just want to make sure you know that. Go on, give me the shot. How long's it good for?"

He turned back to one of the cabinets and began rooting through the contents but Rose caught sight of the tiny smirk on his lips. "A year. We'll reevaluate then, hm?"

"Yeah," Rose agreed, offering her arm when he came back with the injection. He once again shined the blue light on her skin and gave her the injection swiftly and painlessly. He offered a pink plaster this time and Rose had to bite back her grin as he affixed it with a gentle care to her skin.

"Right," he said, smoothing his thumb over the plaster, his voice gruff. "So, Rose Tyler...where to first?"

******

Hand-to-hand combat turned out to be first. He drove her to the university and they made use of a nearly-hidden training room inside of the department. It was set up like a small gymnasium, with mats and bags and pads, and various weaponry adorning the walls. Rose was stunned. She would never have guessed the office could house such a room, particularly with the shelves upon shelves of books that took over the second level.

He led her through a few stretches, some of her routines from gymnastics coming back to her as she manipulated muscles she'd nearly forgotten how to use. She allowed Dr. Smith to help, ignoring the flutteringsin her stomach when he came up behind her and helped correct a stance or stretch a few choice muscle groups further than she could on her own.

By the time they finished, Rose was sore, aching, bruised, and exhausted, but feeling a bit more confident in her abilities. Dr. Smith was a patient, encouraging teacher who smiled proudly at her every time she mastered a new technique or move. That alone was nearly motivation enough.

When they finally parted ways in the early evening, Rose insisting she could walk back to her flat alone, he pressed a stake into her hands and implored her to take care. They would start official patrol the following night, but he reiterated to her to keep alert and she returned the sentiment. He squeezed her hands and left, heading off to his car while Rose started in the direction of her flat.

She was slightly distracted, trying to keep her senses alert, but her mind kept wandering back throughout the day. She cursed her traitorous body and ridiculous human hormones, but she couldn't help but recall the various sparring matches throughout the day, how they'd taken one another down and helped one another back up. They worked well together, already well on their way to a seamless fluidity and it simultaneously frightened and thrilled her to no end.

It was then she noticed that strange tingling in the base of her skull, the so-called sense she seemed to feel when someone-rather, some _thing-_ unnatural was nearby. She strained her ears, utilizing her now-heightened senses and noticed a set of light, careful footsteps right behind her. Heart pounding, she began to plan out a route in her head, ducking behind campus buildings while the footsteps quickened behind her. When she was sure she was out of his line of sight, she leapt up into a fire escape and pulled herself up, hiding until the tall, unknown shadow came into view.

She waited until it stepped slightly ahead of where she was. Then, in a move that would have impressed her old gymnastics instructor and Dr. Smith would certainly have been proud of, she held tight to the rungs of the escape and swung herself back down, her feet making perfect contact with her pursuer's back as she sent him to the ground with a thud.

"I'm tired, I'm sore, and I don't have time to play games," Rose said as soon as she landed smoothly on the ground. "Why are you following me?"

The man on the ground turned over onto his back and Rose wasted no time planting her foot square on his chest. She could see his face finally, his frankly movie-star handsome features framed by thick, wavy black hair. He flashed a perfect smile that made his bright blue eyes crinkle merrily.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he grunted. "And don't worry, I don't bite...unless asked."


	5. Chapter 5

Rose stared down at the man before her. Her instincts were screaming at her that she was in the presence of _something_ unnatural, but the warmth in this stranger's eyes was unmistakable. The few vampires she'd seen using their human visage were cold and calculating, but his eyes were dancing with life and humor. He grinned at her and she had to consciously make an effort not to respond in kind. 

"Why are you following me?"

"Your good looks and sparkling personality aren't enough?"

"Not after the day I've had," Rose muttered. She removed her trainer from his chest and let Captain Jack Harkness rise to his feet. He straightened his long, navy blue greatcoat and let out a small grunt before placing a hand against his chest.

"Ooph, that's gonna bruise tomorrow. For someone so small, you pack a punch."

"You never answered the question," Rose huffed. "Why are you following me?"

"Had to get you away from that foxy Watcher of yours. There's something that you need to know."

"What, and he can't hear it?"

"No, he just wouldn't ever let me near you." Jack grinned saucily and Rose found herself unable to stop the corners of her own mouth from turning up slightly. "Smart man, the Doctor. Knows me too well. Anyway, you need to know. The Harvest is coming."

"The Harvest?" Rose asked in disbelief. "You kidding me? I've got a vampire following me in the dead of night just to warn me that the corn's ready to be picked?"

"It's not the corn I'm worried about," he said, suddenly serious. "It's the... _cattle..._ "

Rose shook her head, the words a complete jumble. "What d'you mean, 'cattle'?"

Jack opened his mouth to speak but a nearby rustling noise caused both of their heads to snap towards a dumpster. Rose tensed, her hand already inching towards the stake hidden in the waistband of her trousers, but relaxed when a small black cat darted out from behind the dumpster.

"Blimey, I'm on edge," she mumbled. "Sorry, what were you saying...?"

Rose turned back to where the mysterious Captain had been standing and let out a frustrated huff. He was gone.

" _Why_ do all the men in my life think it's okay to just _disappear_ in the _middle_ of _very important conversations?_ "

******

Rose's night was full of vividly disturbing dreams once again, that same pale face haunting her until her new alarm clock broke her out of her dream at promptly eight the next morning. The mobile on her nightstand was buzzing as well, alerting her to texts from Martha and Mickey, asking where she'd been all day and begging her to meet them for breakfast. She quickly typed back to give her an hour and they would meet at their favorite university diner. After the day she'd had, she was looking forward to a bit of normalcy and relaxation with her closest friends.

It hit her about halfway through her long, hot shower: what _was_ she going to tell her friends? That she was training to fight beasties from the netherworld? That most of her time now would be spent with a man who was nearly a millennium older than she was, who she'd known for barely a week but with whom she was already forming an odd and inexplicable attachment? How could they even believe her? Merryvale was an odd little village, no doubt about that. They'd heard the warnings about staying in after dark, and had each known _someone_ who had mysteriously disappeared from campus, but it would be quite a leap to believe it was the work of vampires and demons and mysterious genetic experiments and hybrids and things she couldn't possibly begin to comprehend.

She put the idea out of her head and continued on with her morning routine. She didn't need to tell them anything yet. If it became necessary to save their lives, she would have to come clean. She sighed, turning her head to rinse the last of the conditioner from her hair. How did the other Slayers manage having the weight of the human race on their shoulders and still manage their families and friends?

A dull ache spread across her chest as she realized they probably didn't have to. Dr. Smith had left her with the impression that Slayers were separate, almost isolated from everyone except their Watcher and the Council. It was dangerous, she knew that already, and she knew it was probably safer for everyone that way. The family and friends weren't in on a life-altering secret, and the Slayer didn't have any emotional weakness that could put her and her loved ones in jeopardy.

Rose huffed and mentally steeled herself. She'd be damned if anyone was going to cut her off from her friends, from her mother. Rose was all Jackie Tyler had in the world, and she wasn't going to let some stuffy old alien council change that. Not only that; if everything Dr. Smith had told her was true, she was the only one who could protect them.

Rose smiled a bit. Every day she felt better about her decision. Now all she had to do was figure out what the gorgeous Captain Jack Harkness meant by The Harvest. She would run it by Dr. Smith when they met up for the patrol that evening.

The hot shower had rejuvenated her and soothed the still dull ache in her muscles. She dressed casually, pulled on her most comfortable trainers and tied her hair back before darting out of her flat. It was a short walk to the diner, the weather was crisp and sunny, and Rose breathed in the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and flowers that dotted the campus and pretended, just for a moment, that she was just a regular girl heading out to meet her friends for breakfast.

******

Rose quickly found Mickey and Martha, who had snagged a booth at the popular, American-Style diner. The place was usually packed, but 9 AM on a Sunday meant that most students were still sleeping off their hangovers from the night before. Martha was a notoriously early riser, and she barraged Mickey with texts and calls until he joined her. Rose was generally the last to wake up, but she was finding her new stamina came with some perks, including needing far less sleep than was necessary before. 

Rose smiled as her two best friends came into view. They were sitting across from one another but both leaning in, their heads close, apparently deep in discussion. She didn't know when they would possibly come to their senses and realize they'd be perfect for one another, but she hoped it would be sooner rather than later. Just because Rose didn't have any luck in the dating department didn't mean that her friends had to have the same issue.

"There she is!" Mickey said, moving over so Rose could take the seat next to him. "Where have you been?"

"You act like it's been years, I saw you two days ago."

"Practically _forever_ ," Martha grinned. "Where'd you disappear to? We wanted to go down to Silver's last night but your phone kept going to voicemail."

"Did it?" Rose asked innocently. "I must not have had service. Did you guys look at the menu? What are we having?"

"Pancakes," they both answered at the same time. Rose grinned as the ridiculously oblivious pair shared silly grins and began bickering over flavors and toppings. She leaned back and studied the menu, enjoying the peace and normalcy that a simple breakfast with friends brought.

She had a feeling that moments like these would be few and far between in her future.

******

After a lot of prodding, Martha and Mickey somehow convinced Rose to head out to Silver's, the local pub and the main hangout in their apparently not-so-quiet university town. There was always music and dancing and food, and it had been a normal staple in Rose's life up until that point. She knew she was meeting Dr. Smith for her first patrol, and she tried to wheedle her way out of her friends' near weekly ritual, but they flat-out refused to take no for an answer. Martha even followed her back to her tiny flat to help Rose pick out an outfit.

Martha was clearly frustrated by the fifth veto that Rose had offered to her choices. "I just want to be _comfortable_ ," she huffed as Martha offered up a sparkling, fuchsia mini dress that had somehow ended up tucked into Rose's closet, most likely courtesy of Jackie Tyler.

"What's your sudden obsession with comfort? It's not like we're going for a jog afterwards. It's just Silver's."

"Yeah, just Silver's. So why should I be getting myself all dressed up?"

Martha sighed. "Well, Rose, you never know who you might see..."

A thought suddenly dawned on Rose and her eyes widened. "Martha Jones! Are you trying to set me up?"

Martha turned away, suddenly very interested in the contents of Rose's closet. "Set you up for what? Nope, you're imagining things, Rose. Like Mickey and I would ever set you up. Especially not with a really handsome medical student from most of my classes..."

"Martha!"

"Rose!" she retorted, turning back with a relatively simple red shirt clutched in her hand. "Come on, it's been _months_ since you broke up with Jimmy! And Adam's really nice and cute and smart..."

Rose snatched the top out of her hand. "If he's so great why don't you go out with him?"

Martha's cheeks flushed at that comment. "Because, he's not my type. Wear that with your skinny jeans. Leather jacket too. If you're so focused on comfort, you've got some flats in here that will work."

"Fine," Rose told her. "But I can't stay late..."

She turned away to change, but caught Martha's raised eyebrow and felt her own cheeks flush. "Oh? Why's that? You don't have an early class tomorrow."

"Yeah, but I've got something else going on tonight."

"What?"

Rose sighed. "Just...meeting a friend. He's teaching me some self-defense stuff."

" _He_ is teaching you?" Martha questioned. "On a Sunday night?"

"He's got a crazy schedule." Rose pulled on the jeans Martha had suggested and smoothed the strappy red tank. "There. Am I passable? For this ridiculous excuse of a blind date?"

Martha grinned. "You'll do. Come on, hair and make up is all me! We have an hour to make you beautiful!"

Rose sighed as Martha grabbed her hand and tugged her over to the vanity. She mentally steeled herself for what she assumed would be the longest hour of her entire existence.

******

Three hours later, Rose was heartily regretting that statement.

Adam certainly was cute, just like Martha had said. He was also, however, remarkably full of himself and completely uninterested in anything above Rose's shoulders. She listened politely and nodded at the appropriate times but jumped at the chance to grab the next round, insisting she'd be fine to carry a pitcher or two on her own while they all went out to dance. She placed their order over the din of the crowd and waited, observing her two friends and her "date" out on the dance floor. Mickey was eyeing Martha when he thought she wasn't looking, and vice versa, and Rose once again marveled at her friends' stupidity.

"Hey!" Martha said, bopping over to Rose and leaning casually against the bar. "So...what do you think of Adam?"

"How much time have you got?"

Martha's face fell. "You don't like him."

"'Like' is such a _strong_ word..."

"Rose!"

"Martha! What were you _thinking?_ He's..."

"Well, yeah, he can be a bit...self-involved...but I think he's nervous. You just haven't been out on a date since that awful Jimmy Stone! We thought it might do you some good."

"Believe me, Martha, I've got a bit too much on my mind to think about dating," Rose told her. "And you're one to talk! How long has it been since you broke up with Tom?"

Martha frowned and turned towards the crowd, not meeting Rose's gaze. "Not as long as you an’ Jimmy," she muttered.

"Still," Rose stated. "Listen, it's pretty obvious that you and Mickey are mad for each other..."

Martha's head snapped back towards Rose. It would have been difficult to tell in the low light, but Rose's newly enhanced senses could made it unmistakable thatMartha was blushing. "I dunno what you're talking about..."

"Martha, come on. Think about who you're talking to."

"Well, let's say I _do_ like him. He doesn't feel that way about me."

Rose threw up her hands in frustration. "You two are bloody _infuriating!_ Do you know how short life is? It could all be gone like _that_ and you two are wasting time that you could spend being _happy!_ "

Martha took a step back, mouth open in shock. "What's the matter with you, Rose? You've been so weird the past few days..."

She huffed and dropped a few notes onto the bar, thrusting the pitchers of lager into Martha's hands. "I need some air."

Rose ignored Martha's protests as she made her way through the crowd. She knew of a side exit that led out into an alley, generally quiet except for the occasional puking student or urinating drunk. The cool air was a welcome sensation after the cramped, sweaty atmosphere of the pub, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to be away from everything, from everyone, even just for a moment. She glanced around, making sure that she was alone before leaping up onto the fire escape and climbing towards the roof.

Rose was still amazed at the new strength she possessed without any added bulk or density to her body structure. Hoisting herself onto the various platforms was as natural as breathing, and it was barely a minute before she was climbing onto the roof and looking out onto her not-so-sleepy college town. Had it really only been a few days ago that she'd been just one of those kids in the crowd? Just another university student, hoping to make it through exams and to graduation and onto a future? Now she didn't even know what her future held, whether or not she even _had_ one. What sort of job could she get? Law enforcement? Mixed martial arts fighter? Circus freak?

"You keep making that face and it's gonna stick that way."

Rose jumped and spun around, coming face-to-face with Dr. Smith. He was leaning casually against one of the smoke stacks in his usual dark denims, boots, and leather jacket. Rose tried to fight the little thrill of pleasure at seeing him, actively turning her expression sour and huffing. "Can't a girl get a minute of peace? What are you even doing here?"

"Well, I was waiting for you to start singing _Don't Cry For Me, Argentina_ , but no dice. Why the face? They cancel _Bethenny?"_

Rose ignored him and turned her attention back over the activity below. "I thought we weren't meeting 'til ten?"

"Was just on my way there. Saw you performing some acrobatics...dunno, felt like you shouldn't be alone."

Rose wasn't sure whether she was touched by his observation or unnerved at the level at which he seemed to be attuned to her. Either way, he came over to the ledge and mirrored her position, his leather-clad arm pressed against hers as they both looked out over the rowdy group of university students. She shivered a bit at the contact, a motion completely involuntary and entirely unwelcome. She didn't want to be reminded about the budding attraction she had for her mysterious Watcher.

Perceptive as always, he must have noticed her shiver because he glanced over at her intently. "Are you cold?"

"No."

He sighed. "Don't be petulant. You're not dressed properly for the weather. Here..." He shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders, holding it so she could slip her arms into the sleeves. Rose resisted the urge to bury her nose in the collar and breathe in the warm, spicy scent that was clinging to the soft material. Faint as it was, it reminded her of Dr. Smith, and she immediately felt more at ease, imagining that being wrapped in his jacket was akin to being wrapped in his arms.

"If it's peace and quiet you're looking for," he began slowly, breaking her out of her reverie. "You certainly chose the wrong profession," he told her.

"I was given to believe that the profession chose _me,_ " Rose replied dryly, tugging his jacket tighter across her torso.

Dr. Smith chuckled a bit. "Yes, well done, Rose. Full marks on the history portion of the evening."

Even Rose cracked a small smile. "Yeah, the history is gonna be the tough part. All I keep getting from you blokes are vague, incomplete bits of nonsense. 'It's your sacred birthright, Rose...the Harvest is coming, Rose...'"

Dr. Smith's head snapped towards her. "I'm sorry...the _what?_ "

Rose met his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "You know, the Harvest? Whatever that is. The thing you sent Captain Jack to warn me about. Didn't even get a chance to explain himself..."

"Captain Jack?"

"Did I stutter? Captain Jack...tall, gorgeous in a movie-star sort of way..."

Dr. Smith frowned. "He's not _really_ a captain, Rose. And I didn't send him, why would I when I could just tell you in person?"

"Well, he knew you..."

"I'm nine hundred years old, Rose, I know a lot of people. What on Earth is the Harvest?"

"How am I supposed to know? I've been doing this for half a week, Dr. Smith..."

"Really, Rose, it's just the Doctor," he huffed out. "Maybe we should forego patrol tonight and go back to the department, I'm sure I have some volumes that would be helpful..."

Rose grinned, about to make a witty remark back at him when suddenly, all of the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her entire body tensed, her fingers gripping the concrete of the ledge as she began scanning the crowd below.

"What is it, Rose?" Dr. Smith asked, concerned.

"Something is down there," she said. "A vampire, I think. It's hard to tell, there's so many students hanging around."

"Just...concentrate..." he said, placing a hand on her arm soothingly. "Reach out, try to sense them...you can do it..."

In the end, it had nothing to do with her sense. The male in question was so obviously not of their decade that it was laughable. His hair was cut to resemble a mushroom, he wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans and an open, button down shirt over a plain white vest. He looked as though he had stepped right out of the mid-1990s, and Rose was positive no one on campus favored that particular decade's fashion choices.

"Right there," she told Dr. Smith. "The one who looks like he's on his way to the skateboard park, see? Talking to the girl with the...dark...hair..."

Rose felt all the color drain from her face as the flirting couple shifted. Instantly, she pushed off the ledge and sprinted towards the fire escape. She was barely aware of her body's movements, of the easy way she hoisted herself over the ledge and onto the hard metal grating. Her mind was suddenly a single-track, and all she could think of was getting to her friend.

"What's the matter, Rose?" Dr. Smith called, following after her.

"That's Martha!" she cried out as she hopped back down the platforms.

"Who?" Dr. Smith replied.

"She's my best friend!" Rose replied as she hit concrete and began running. "I have to get to her before she gets killed!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to RishiDiams for saving my life with her awesome beta skillz! And thank you all who keep reading and reviewing! One of these rare days off I have I will sit down and respond, but please keep in mind that I read every comment and it makes me feel all warm and lovely inside! THANK YOU!

"She's gone!"

Rose spun frantically, scanning the crowd for her best friend. Martha was nowhere to be found, and she could no longer sense whatever creature she had been talking to. Her heart was racing, her head was swimming, she could barely _think_ let alone act.

"Rose, you need to calm down."

Her gaze settled on Dr. Smith, and her clarity slowly returned. He was standing in front of her, his hands gentle against her shoulders, his deep voice seeming to slow her heart rate and allowing her to finally draw in a breath. "Okay, calm. What now? What do we _do?_ "

Before he could respond, Mickey and Adam came up alongside them. Rose groaned internally. Leave it to her date and best friend to complicate things further. "There you are! Where'd you disappear to? Who's this?"

"God, Mickey, too many questions," Rose told him. "Did you see Martha?"

His face darkened. "Yeah, she went off that way, towards the cemetery. Who was she talking to?"

"Hey, Rose!" Adam piped up, holding Rose's jacket proudly in his hand. He frowned when he saw that she was draped in a leather jacket that was several sizes too large for her. "Where'd you run off to? And who's this guy?"

"Dr. John Smith," he replied for her. "A friend of Rose's. Now you two best get home. Rose and I have work to do."

"Right," she said, meeting his gaze determinedly. "I'll see you later on, Mickey. Come on, Doctor, let's go."

"Wait, where are we going?" Mickey asked, following after the pair, keeping up with their strides easily and Rose cursing his stellar history with the track team. "Is Martha in trouble? Who was that guy? Do you know him?"

"Too many questions again, Mickey!" Rose exclaimed. "You need to go back! Go...make sure Adam is okay or something!"

"He took off with some blonde when he thought you disappeared," Mickey replied. "And you're mad if you think I'm staying behind when Martha could be in trouble!"

"We really need an entourage for this?" the Doctor grumbled behind her.

She turned and glared at him. "I don't have time for the attitude, Doctor! You want to tell him why he can't tag along? Be my guest, but I have a best friend to save!"

"You're letting him just walk into danger like this?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "It's one vampire. You keep Mickey occupied, and I'll go after Martha. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Aaaaaand you've just gone and jinxed us all."

******

The cemetery was just a block over, and Rose knew they were on the right track when a shrill scream pierced through the quiet night. Rose felt all the blood drain from her face and heart began thumping erratically in her chest. That was her best friend in danger, the girl who had seen her through her worst break-up and who had been there for her, no questions asked, for nearly the last two years. No power on the Earth could stop her from getting to Martha.

"Mickey, stay with Dr. Smith!" she called over her shoulder as she sprinted towards the large mausoleum that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up worse than the others. She heard Martha scream again and, without another thought, she reared back and kicked in the heavy stone door, the solid fixture giving way as easily as if she had shoved her foot through cardboard.

Her entrance must have startled the skater boy, because his head jerked away from Martha's neck and he gawked at Rose. His face had gone demonic, barely recognizable, but she could see the real, almost human, fear in his eyes.

"What...how...?"

"Hi there. I'm Rose. That's my best friend, Martha, and you better get your hands off her." Rose stood her ground, trying her best to look make her five-foot-four inch frame seem threatening while still draped in a man's leather jacket. That was something she'd have to work on with the Doctor.

The vampire didn't seem to buy her bravado. He grinned, showing the mouthful of jagged, pointed teeth menacingly. "Now why would I do that?" he asked, pushing Martha to the ground and advancing towards Rose. "Now that you're here, she can watch me kill you and I can have _her_ for dessert."

"You have no idea who you're dealing with," she told him. "I'm giving you one last chance. Run."

"Oh really, little girl? Or else what?"

He was advancing steadily towards her before he pounced, leaping towards Rose, claws out and mouth open. Rose dodged him easily and, without much fanfare, she tugged the stake out of her waistband and drove it easily into his heart.

It was incredibly satisfying to see the split-second of astonishment on his face before he turned to dust in front of her.

"The _Slayer._ "

Rose turned towards the voice and saw a young, posh blonde woman standing in the doorway of the tomb. She could have passed as elegant, had her face not been contorted into the creature Rose was learning to hate with a bitter passion.

"That's what they tell me," she replied cooly, moving towards Martha, who was still sprawled on the floor, staring at the scene before her in shock and horror. "I'm okay with it. Comes with tons of perks. Sorry, you are?"

"Going to kill you in just a moment. And your friends. But I go by Reinette."

Before Rose could respond, a familiar young man came tumbling through the door, hands pressed against his bloodied neck as he smiled woozily. "Think she just gave me a hickey..."

"Adam!" Martha finally croaked out as the man in question collapsed inelegantly next to her. "Oh, God, what happened?"

"Just a little taste," Reinette replied. "You are all offerings to the Master. So rare to taste... _pure_ blood anymore."

"You're not gonna touch them," Rose stood her ground protectively in front of the pair. "You saw me dust your friend there. Want the same treatment? Just try to get through me."

"I think I just might," the vampire replied, rearing back and sprinting towards her. Rose immediately launched herself at her, calling back for Martha to run now that the exit was clear. She tried to focus on her training, but it was only her instincts that drove the fight, which she seemed to be winning. Every solid blow, every connection was a shock to Reinette, and Rose could tell she was growing more and more flustered with every passing moment.

"My, my," she practically choked out. "You certainly do have style. Who's your trainer?"

Before Rose could answer, a hand seized the back of her neck. Pain erupted up and down her body as she clutched at it, trying to remember how to breathe. She felt her feet lift up off the ground and a deep, grumbling voice muttered, "I don't care," in her ear before hurtling her into a stone wall.

Rose collided with the surface hard, completely knocking the wind out of her. She crumpled to the ground and, as the spots cleared from her vision and she regained her breath, she glanced up to see a huge, solid wall of a vampire smirking down at her.

"You were supposed to bring an offering to the Master, Reinette," he growled.

"They got away," she replied, brushing dust from her designer jacket. "She's strong, Luke."

"Well...I'm stronger," he said, grabbing Rose by her shoulders and hoisting her up into the air. She kicked at his torso and scratched at his hands, but he was completely unfazed. He pressed her back against the wall and held her there, grinning maniacally.

"The Master will be pleased enough with Slayer blood..." he said thoughtfully. "But we will need to take some of the fight out of this one first..."

Rose's eyes went wide and her heart began thumping even more wildly in her chest as the horrible creature descended towards her neck. She screeched out a series of words that would have made a sailor blush and struggled as best she could against his hold, but it was useless. She'd failed already, barely lasting a week as protector of the world.

"Rose!"

Her gaze was wrenched away from the monster in front of her to the mausoleum entrance and hope flared in her chest. The Doctor was standing there, looking terrified at the sight before him. Their eyes met, and Rose nearly smiled.

"Catch!" he called out, hurling something in her direction. She caught it and, in a split second, realized it was a cross and had it pressed against Luke's face.

He screamed out in agony and Rose finally managed to wrench herself free. She kicked him away, the sole of her flimsy ballet flat solidly connecting with his chest and pushing him far enough away for her to sprint towards the door.

The Doctor grabbed her on the way out and pulled her into a brief embrace, and Rose could practically feel the relief radiating off him. "You have excellent timing," she muttered against the soft knit of his jumper.

"It's a gift," he murmured, pulling back and grinning at her. "And I really, _really_ love this jacket."

Rose grinned and was about to come back at him with something witty when Martha's screech broke through the night. Rose's eyes locked with the Doctor's and, oddly enough, they both grinned at one another. He grabbed her hand and they took off towards the sound.

They broke off when the chaos came into sight. A pair of vampires was dragging an unconscious Mickey back towards the mausoleum and a single one had tackled Martha to the ground. Wordlessly, the Doctor took off towards Mickey and Rose instantly pulled the vampire off her best friend. He snarled at her, but Rose was prepared. She dodged his blows and kicked him towards a tree, finally delivering one hard, solid blow that had a conveniently-placed branch piercing through his heart.

"Martha!" Rose called out, running back to her friend as soon as she confirmed that the vampire was now dust. She fell to her knees next to her in the grass and scanned her for any visual injuries. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"I think I'm okay...Mickey! Is Mickey okay? They tried to take him!"

"He's all right," the Doctor said, helping to carry an unsteady Mickey over to them. Rose sighed in relief when she realized everyone she cared about had escaped the ordeal mostly unscathed, but she felt her body tense with anxiety when she realized that one of their party was missing.

"Where's Adam?" Rose asked, scanning the cemetery. "He was hurt!"

"I don't know what happened," Mickey said, regretfully. "I hit my head on a grave or something. They must have taken him."

Rose's stomach sank. She had just met the man, but he was a fellow human being and no one deserved to meet the fate that he would. As if sensing her unease, the Doctor came up beside her and rubbed her tender shoulders gently.

"It's all right," he murmured. "Let's go back to the department and regroup, then we can think about going after him."

Rose took in a deep breath through her nose and nodded, letting her hand twine with his without much thought. "You both okay to walk?"

Mickey nodded and stood up on wobbly legs. He offered an arm to Martha, who took it seemingly without thinking and pulled herself up to his side. They began walking back towards the university, no one knowing how to even begin talking.

"You called me Doctor," he murmured to Rose.

Rose flushed as she realized that was true. She'd dropped the formality of "Dr. Smith," and had just begun referring to him as the Doctor. "Yeah, well, when every second counts, Dr. Smith is a bit more of a mouthful than just 'Doctor,'" she teased, catching her tongue between her teeth as she grinned at him. "Or I could just call you 'Smith.'"

"Oh, no...just the Doctor is fine."

"Isn't anyone going to explain to us what the _hell_ is going on?" Martha finally broke hers and Mickey's uneasy silence with a slightly hysterical screech.

******

"So what you're saying," Mickey began slowly. They were back at the Doctor's office, Donna was off making tea for everyone while he and Martha were sitting in one of the more comfortable circles of chairs, trying to make sense out of Rose's new life. She was perched on Donna's desk, icing down her injuries while the Doctor was busy up on the second story of the office, mixing something at one of the many small tables. "Is that Rose is a super hero?"

Rose bit back her smile as she watched the Doctor roll his eyes. "It is a sacred birth right. Not a...comic book plot! Rose, where do you find these idiots?"

"Oi!"

"Be nice," Rose chastised him, shifting her ice pack to the opposite shoulder and sighing in relief. She was stiff and sore, though not nearly as immobile as she thought she would be after being tossed around a crypt like a rag doll. She felt the Doctor come up behind her and her face burned as he shifted the strap of her tank off her shoulder and began rubbing some sort of soothing ointment into her muscle. She practically groaned in pleasure as a pleasant tingling replaced the pain and forgot to be embarrassed as she let her head loll back against his solid chest.

"Magic hands," she murmured.

"Magic _salve_ ," he corrected, shifting the ice pack and moving on to the next shoulder.

"Hands aren't too bad either," she retorted playfully, grinning up at him. She noticed the tips of his ears going a pink and her grin widened.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Martha asked in a small voice, interrupting their little reverie. "I mean, we're your friends. We could have helped..."

Rose sighed and hopped down from her perch on Donna's desk. She sat down in one of the free chairs next to Martha. "I wanted to. It's only been a few days since I found out, really. But knowing this...it puts you in danger."

"So you just wanted to protect us," Mickey scoffed. "From the things that could literally jump out and kill us at any moment. Don't you think it would have been good for us to _know_ about this? Vampires and Slayers and...what did you call it...the _Mouth of Hell?_ "

"Slayers don't usually operate... _socially_ ," the Doctor interrupted, coming over and perching on the arm of Rose's chair. "When we can identify the potential slayers, they are taken from their families and trained until they are called. With Rose, we barely had any notice. My people...we can read timelines but there are so many possibilities, so many alternatives that things can change entirely too quickly and then we're scrambling at the last second. This is very new territory for us." He glanced down at her with what Rose hoped was a fond expression. "Bloody trouble maker, you are."

Rose made a face at him before turning back to her friends. "I promise, no more secrets, okay?"

Martha nodded and gestured towards the Doctor. "So how long have you two been together then?"

Rose's eyes went wide, but before she could answer, Donna shoved her way into their little corner with a peppy, "Tea!" and plopped the tray down noisily on the table between them all. She sat down in the only available chair and began fixing her cup. "So, what did I miss?"

"Nothing!" Rose and the Doctor practically shouted. He jumped off the armrest of her chair and grabbed the kettle, pouring himself a cup of the tea and wincing at the first sip of the obviously hot beverage.

"Weirdos," Donna muttered before turning to Martha and Mickey. "I'm glad you two are in on it now. We need some new blood around here. I get so tired of this one brooding _all the time_. Have to say, though, since we found Rose he's been far more tolerable. Finally have a purpose, eh, Doctor?"

"Really, Donna?" the Doctor scoffed.

"Now what are we going to do about Adam?" Rose piped up, changing the subject and hopefully drawing attention away from her and the Doctor's relationship. "Where do we even begin to find him?"

"Well, vampires generally thrive underground. Tunnels, sewer systems...they can get all around town without actually catching any sunlight," Donna offered.

"So what, do we go to the Merryvale building commission?" Martha offered. "Get a map of the underground system?"

"There's no _time,_ " Rose muttered, unable to sit still any longer. She stood and began pacing the office floor. "We can't risk anything until daylight, anyway. God, this is so frustrating."

"Don't worry, Rose, I can get the map of the sewer system," Mickey told her, hopping up from his chair and moving over to Donna's desk. "It might take me a while..."

"Don't you _dare_ adjust that seat, mister!" Donna called out as she followed him. "Took me ages to get it just right!"

"I want to help, too," Martha piped up. "Adam's our friend, and if we can find him..."

"Well, you're a medical student, so I assume you're good at research," the Doctor offered. "This Harvest thing has me stumped, and I don't like being stumped. I want to go through the literature, see if anything mentions it. You don't happen to read ancient Sumerian, do you?"

"Um...no, not really..." Martha replied.

"Oh, fine, we'll keep to English for you. Rose, with me? Could do with a hand for the heavy lifting."

Rose nodded and followed him up the short set of stairs into his office, where he seemingly kept most of his collection away from the prying eyes of the university students. "Rose, can you try and find _Mystical Convergences: Events and Happenings?_ It might be of some help to Martha...are you all right?"

"What if he's already dead?" Rose blurted out. "What if it's already too late?"

The Doctor sighed. He stopped rustling around the bookshelves and turned, placing those comforting, magic hands on her shoulders. "Rose, I promise you, if Adam is alive, we will find him."

"Less than a week on the job and I've already failed," she replied, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. "I'm supposed to protect them, and I let him get taken..."

"Rose, you are only one person," he told her. "One girl in all the world with the strength and the skill to hunt the vampires. You cannot be everywhere at once. And if it weren't for you, Martha and Mickey would be dead now as well." He ran his hands soothingly up and down her bare arms, the touch calming her more than she cared to admit. "You've done more good than you've realized tonight."

She took in a deep, steadying breath and met his gaze, unable to keep the small smile from gracing her lips. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

He squeezed her shoulders gently and moved back to one of the many bookshelves. Rose busied herself with the one closest to her, looking for the book he had mentioned even as her mind wandered. She thought she'd had everything under control back at the tomb, and then everything had gone completely to Hell. She'd been about to stake Reinette easily and then that monster she had called Luke came out of nowhere...

 _No_ , she thought with a sudden clarity. _Not out of nowhere..._

"He came up from behind me," she murmured.

"What are you on about?" the Doctor asked.

"I was facing the entrance," she muttered. "And he wasn't there before...he must have come up from behind me. There must be an access point in the mausoleum!"

"Rose!" Mickey called from outside. "We got the plans!"

"Having the IT major around doesn't seem like such a bad idea, does it?" she told him with a grin, suddenly buoyant as the plan began to form in her mind. "Whoever this Master guy is, he has _no_ idea who he's dealing with."

The Doctor's head snapped up. "I'm sorry... _who?_ "

"I dunno," Rose said. "Luke just said something about bringing offerings to the Master. Why? Does that matter?"

"Hmmm?" he asked, seeming distracted. "Oh, no, probably not. Come on, let's go rescue that boyfriend of yours."

Rose huffed and followed her Watcher out of the office. "God, he is _not_ my boyfriend!"


End file.
